Near noon, an old man hobbled out of the shade of the biggest tree. He leaned heavily on a giant. The giant was elderly, gone to fat, and his smile was more goofy than challenging. Still, a giant. They approached without fear. Bent and twisted as the master was, Whandall wondered at his equally goofy grin. Like a Lordkin springing a trap?
Then Whandall recognized him. "Tras!"
"Whandall Feathersnake. Always surprising. I much prefer this to your last surprise."
"I-"
"Shall I tell you how I got myself off your land alive? After I crawled back into the crypt, I fainted. When my man Hejak-"
"Hold up, Tras. Arshur?"
"Arshur the Magnificent," the giant confirmed. "Not sure I remember you. Got a drink?"
"I was with Alferth when you got your first drink here. You getting beaten up, that started the Burning twenty-odd years back. I thought you'd be leaving on the next ship."
"I like it here."
They rounded the last bend. The Toronexti were ahead.
The caravan moved toward them. Whandall's merchants moved to the tailgates, ready to jump down. The new recruits huddled around Green Stone. They would be at the gatehouse in minutes.
Hobbling along with his stick in one hand, the other on Arshur's arm, Tras was still keeping up with the burdened bison. "Hejak gave up on me and was leaving when I crawled out, but I-"
Whandall said in some haste, "Tras, I'm just too busy right now, but can you climb a tree?"
Tras Preetror gaped. "Do I look-?"
"He can climb a tree," Arshur said. "Or I can throw him up a tree. Should I do that?"
"Both of you." Watchman had pounded Arshur's head with sticks. The treatment seemed to have done some permanent damage.
Now Tras Preetror saw the armored Toronexti ahead. "That officer-I know how he hurt his hand."
"I've stopped caring."
"Three Lordsmen wanted out of Tep's Town, with their armor. The tax men tried to stop them. They wanted one suit of armor."
"Tras, you two are about to see a really good story happen right in front of you."
"They're more careful now. Do you mean..." Tras was finally seeing the danger. "Story. May I call it 'The Death of Whandall Feather-snake'?"
"If that's what you see, that's what you tell, but see it from a height, Tras, and in hiding. If you live, you owe me."
The kinless bonehead ponies were getting larger, horns growing as they approached the forest. That hadn't happened this close to Tep's Town last time, Whandall remembered. Yangin-Atep was myth. Whoever saw the implications first would make fortunes.
Waterman was ahead of them, his band grown to nearly fifty men drawn up in three ranks. An officer's tent was set up behind them. Whandall didn't recognize the Lord, but Sundry rode up alongside the wagon. "My lather," he said. He whipped up his horses to go to his lather's tent.
The wagons reached the Toronexti gale.
The big Toronexti officer with the injured hand was waiting. There were more of the masked and armored tax collectors, fifty that Whandall could see, more in the tollgate building, probably some behind the building. Whandall waited.
Sandry brought his chariot up. "Let them pass."
"Now why should I do that?" Half Hand demanded.
"Orders from the Lord Chief Witness. This wagon train passes without taxes."
"Now does it? Chief Clerk!"
The shuttered door on the second floor of the brick gatehouse popped open. There stood Egon Forigaft, and a glimpse of dark ancient tapestries behind him. He leaned far out over the ten-foot drop to put daylight on the sheet of parchment in his hands. A Toronexti guard held his sash.
"Decree of Lord Chief Witness Harcarth: the Toronexti shall have the right of taxation on all goods departing through the forest. There is more."
"Enough, I think," the scarred officer said. "Younglord, we have a charter. Witnessed and signed, Younglord. Witnessed and signed."
Sandry shrugged helplessly. Toronexti moved forward.
Whandall said, "Hey, harpy!"
The fighting men of the wagon train leaped down to join the Lordkin and kinless walking alongside the wagons. Together they made a formidable band. Women took over the reins, closed the gaps in the wagon covers.
"You want our goods? Come and take them!" Whandall shouted.
"A decree!" Egon Forigaft shouted. "The Lords will assist the Toronexti when they are attacked by outsiders."
"Who's an outsider?" Whandall jumped to a wagon roof and stripped off his shirt. "I am Whandall of Serpent's Walk! Who dares say I am not Lordkin?"
No one moved. Sandry laughed. "What does it say about Lordkin, Clerk?"
Egon found it. "The Toronexti shall protect the Lords and their agents from civil unrest."
Sandry said, "We owe you no protection from Lordkin. You protect us, you misbegotten goblins!"
One of the Toronexti threw a stone. It struck Sandry's spearman in the stomach. The spearman bent over, retching.
Sandry gave a wide grin and lifted his spear.
"A proclamation of Lord Qirinthal the First!" Egon shouted from his upper story. "There shall be truce between Lords and Toronexti so long us this charter endures. If Toronexti shall strike a Lordsman, that Toronexti shall he liable for double the injury in blood, two eyes for an eye, two limbs for a limb, two lives for a life, and this be paid, the truce shall endure!"
"We pay!" the Toronexti officer shouted. "Bring me that man!" He pointed to the window, though the man who had thrown the stone had vanished. Two Toronexti dragged him over. The officer hit him in the stomach with all his strength, then again. "Do the Lords demand another man be punished?" he shouted.
Sandry turned away in disgust.
"It's that stack of old parchments, isn't it?" Whandall said.
Sandry nodded.
"What if it were to burn?"
Sandry grinned.
"Go! Stone! Distract them while I get that paper!" Whandall shouted. The Toronexti wouldn't understand the language of the Hemp Road.
Stone led his band toward the Toronexti. Whandall charged forward to dash inside the gatehouse, but someone inside saw what he intended. The gatehouse door slammed shut with a crash.
"Greathand! Break the door!"
Greathand had a sword in one hand and a hammer in the other. He ran forward. Whandall ran with him, his cloak wrapped around his arm to protect them both. He blocked a slash, felt his cloak yield to a sharp blade. A Toronexti moved toward them, then fell to Hammer Miller's sling. Now a dozen slingers were in action, and stones fell among the Toronexti. They held up their arms to protect their heads. Two more fell.
Twenty of the tax men came around the building. They held shields and moved in behind them in a rattle of stones from the kinless slings. They got between the other Toronexti and the slingers.
Whandall's Lordkin stalwarts rushed forward, but despite all Stone could do, they didn't stay together. They came in ones and twos, and in ones and twos they were cut down. Whandall saw a dozen of his men on the ground to half that many enemies.
"Smoke!" One of the Toronexti gibbered and pointed. A black cloud of smoke rose over Granite Knob. "Smoke! That's our homes!"
Whandall smiled grimly.
"We have to protect our homes!"
"Stand fast!" Half Hand shouted. "It's a trick! It's just smoke to draw us away! Stand fast!"
Greathand pounded on the door with his hammer. The door did not yield. "I need an ax!" he shouted.